City of IF

[Chinaren]

Chinaren's Nearly Famous STORY OF A PICTURE 4 competition!

Okay all, this one is CLOSED! Thank you all for playing.

Well done all! The winner of the best Story was none other than our own King Key!

Yet again, that darned Smee takes first prize for the Guesses! Will no one ever beat him?

The awards will go up soon in the Hall of Champions in Chinaren Hall.

Top three Guesses.
1st - 16 Points.
2nd - 13 points.
3rd - 10 points.


Entries for SoaP4:
1. Sister, Sister...Where did I Go Wrong? Kallana Rai
2. Civilisation. Stoat
3. Outside Girl. Kinky
4. Beer Run. Flauna (loved this one Flauna!)
5. Heavy Metal. Areax.


Player Guesses.
1. Sister, Sister...Where did I Go Wrong? : Kalanna
2. Civilisation : Stoat
3. Outside Girl : Soily
4. Beer Run. : Fauna
5. Heavy Metal. : Araex

1. Sister, Sister...Where did I Go Wrong? Kalanna Rai
2. Civilisation. Shady Stoat
3. Outside Girl. Key
4. Beer Run. Ethereal_fauna
5. Heavy Metal. Solomon_Birch

1 - Rai.
2 - Fauna.
3 - Rave.
4 - Stoat.
5 - Araex.

1. Kalanna
2. Shady
3. DragonFire
4. Chinaren
5. Fauna



---------------------------------------

Roll up roll up! Take part in the competition they have all been talking about! Write! Read! Vote! Pay Chinaren money! Win! Win! Win!!!!

Winners of Previous SoaPs were:
SoaP1
Shady Stoat - Best story
E_Fauna & Smee (tied) - Most correct guesses.
SoaP2 - Jan 2006
Smee - Best story
Smee - Most correct guesses.
SoaP3 - Feb 2006
Chinaren - Best story
Smee - Most correct guesses. (Again!!)

Rules and all that jazz. Please read carefully:

There are several parts to this competition:

1. Look, write, submit.

Below this entry I will post a picture.

Look at the picture and write a short story (max 2004 words) which, at some point, the picture is a part of.

For example. If the picture is of a man jumping through a window, then you can write a story where a man, at some point in the tale, jumps through a window.

In the story you must describe the picture and it must match the picture pretty much exactly.

When you have written the story DO NOT POST IT HERE!!!

PM it, or e-mail it, to me!! Do not tell anyone you have written the story!! I will donate the Fables I get for posting entrants' stories back to the author*

The story will be posted exactly as it is PMd to me, with no corrections or additions.

The first entry will get their story entered for free, otherwise the entry fee is a very reasonable 20Fables per story.

You may enter as many times as you like!

2. Judgement.

There are two parts to 'The Judgement'.

a. Best story:

The first is a straight vote on which story you like the best.
The prize to the winning author will be 100Fables and the opportunity to submit the picture for the next SoaP!

b. Guess who wrote them!

The second competition has previously required 10Fables to enter. However, to stimulate more entries (to try and encourage someone to beat Smee) this part is once again FREE! Wooo!

For this section you must guess who wrote each story.

You will Score:

One point (1) for guessing an author, but not putting the right name to the right story. EG:If Stoat writes story number 10, and you guess Stoat wrote story 5, then you get 1 point.

4 points for guessing correctly eg: Stoat number 10.

1 point for 'guessing' your own entry, as it isn't fair to give three, but it isn't fair to not reward you either.

Of course, this part requires the authors to play along here and not give away what they wrote. Any breach of this rule and the author will forfeit the prize, (should they win) and be barred from entering the next competition.

The person who guesses correctly first, or if no one guesses by the close date, the person who guesses most, wins a Fables prize, which will be dependant upon how many people paid to guess**.


*Minus a very small handling fee**.
**Hey, I'm not a charity you know!

-----------------------------------

The picture will be posted below, chosen by me as winner of SoaP 3.

Entrance is open until I get enough stories or until a date that I decide it is closed, depends on the response really.

Remember: If you write a story PM it to me! Don't post it here!!

Happy SoaPing!

[Chinaren]

Bit of a change of pace this time:



If you can't see the picture, go to:

http://i13.photobucket.com/albums/a251/chinren/SoaP4.jpg

If that doesn't work, PM me.

Okay, SoaP 4 is GO!

[Chinaren]

Sister, Sister...Where did I Go Wrong?


Walking through the slums of Burnout City isn't like walking through your normal park. Here you've gotta be tough to survive, like me, like the others...the Sisters of Sin. I'm Blood Sister by the way incase you having been staring at my ass this entire time.

Don't be fooled by the skimpy white lace lingerie and leather that keep me 'clothed', pay more attention to the knives on my shoulders I have 'em for a reason. And it's not because I don't own a fork either. I'm a Bitch, a sister so on the outside that even other Sinners run in fear when my name's called. They know, like you'll know, that you just don't get in my way.

Here's an example....

One night, I'm minding as much of my own buisiness as I've been paid too, when some asshole hops outta an alley and asks to see my tattoo up close and in person. He gave the words 'reach out and touch someone' a whole new meaning...or wanted too. I don't take that kinda crap, not from anyone or anyone's mother.

Too bad for him that this secluded spot, perfect for a rape, is perfect for a murder too. Who's here too see me? Is the rotting Coca-Cola billboard going to turn me in? The crumbling walls with their reinforced steel bars? Maybe it's the skeletal skyscraper that looms, like some charred giant, in the background where it rears up to meet the smoke filled sky. Somethings burning in Burnout City, something always is, chasing away blue skies with hazy smog and thick ash.

Without much thought, I've done this a hundred times before, I rebound off the chain-link fence behind me and somersault over his head, causing him to gasp in surprise. The next thing he knows one knife is in his kidney the other is in his groin. I leave him to bleed there, wiping my knives on his shirt before I go.

Stepping daintily through the dip in the sharp wires of the black chain link, I turn and look over my shoulder, shaking my damp, I'm sweating by this time, reddish brown hair out of my almond shaped brown eyes, narrowing them thoughtfully. My gloved hands tighten on my knife grip ever so slightly, making the chunky steel studded leather bracelets on my wrists shift ever so slightly. "Another round?"

When he only whimpers in pain I return my attention to the graffiti stained walls, the fish, one, osse, glaring at me from their spot on the billboard. A code, written by a sister for a sister. The face, just something meaningless to keep the Peacekeepers off our trail.

I was outta there so fast I think I left some sweat pooling on on the pavement. That or someone saw me. But you're not going to tell them are you? No, of course your not. You're dead, just like the rest of them Sister...dead and gone. Oh Sister, sister...Where did I go Wrong?

Now come, come with me to see the others, the Sisters of Sin. The ladies who are bought and sold to keep the rich of Burnout City in comfort. The ladies I work for, was once one of, but never again shall I be so used.

Follow me Sister...

[LordoftheNight]

Nice story, and I like the picture too.

[Chinaren]

Thought you would Lordy! ;)

[Solomon Birch]

ROFL! Yeah, so did I. I wonder why you like it Lordy? ;)

[LordoftheNight]

Well, it's an obviously well drawn picture, with good imagery, and a strong central character providing a strong contrast.

[Chinaren]

lordofthenight wrote: Well, it's an obviously well drawn picture, with good imagery, and a strong central character providing a strong contrast.

ROFL!!!!!

[LordoftheNight]

Well, it is.

[Ravenwing]

Some ideas do come up after seeing that picture. Perhaps I will get a story typed up soon enough. Is there a deadline, China? Your first post doesn't make mention of one.

[Chinaren]

The deadline is when I get about 9 entries* in, or when I feel it has been open long enough, whichever comes first. I usually give warning though, so don't worry.

And, Shhhh!


*The poll doesn't take any more than about that number.

[Chinaren]

Civilisation

The mirror showed her up poorly. Outside, the storm-clouds were allowing only dim light into the filthy den of her apartment, and the looking-glass was cracked, faded and misty. Even so, it was the best that money could buy. The best was garbage, in a crumbled civilisation.

The war had come. The whole world was one big pile of garbage now. Like all heaps everywhere, though, life was beginning to stir again. The strong were surfacing, racing to the top of the heap. The cream… and the scum. The Kings… and the cockroaches.

Which category did she fall into? She wondered as she turned, surveying her naked perfection. No flaws showed in the smooth, baby skin as she smoothed it with her hands. Her fingers traced the tattoos, for they marked and defined her. No idle decorations, these; they paid homage to the sisterhood – the dawn of a new era. In a world full of pain and disease and mutation, she was a treasure beyond price… and a force to be reckoned with.

It was time. She began to don her uniform.

The white boots; thigh-high soft leather with the spiked stiletto heels, symbolic of the tough yet pliable nature of the Blood Sisters.

The white lace wrappings, exquisite in their beauty and their fragility. Who else could find or afford such luxury when the world had tumbled around them? Such luxurious delicacy was a message to all who saw it. The Blood Sisters could afford to look beautiful in an ugly world. They wore no armour for they had no need. The Sisterhood protected its own. Touch just one of them and seal your own doom.

The leather gloves, pads and harness. Although such entrapments seemed to negate the message of the silk and the lace, they did not. They spoke louder than words. The Blood Sisters may protect each other, yet even alone they were not weak. They were a new generation of the feminine and would not become victims, any one of them!

She looked at her array of weapons and wondered which one she would be using tonight. A small smile played upon her lips as she picked her favourite.

The whip. Of course. What else, on a storm-laden night like this? The lash of the whip, to match the lash of the lightning!

She was ready. Taking one final, satisfied glance at herself in the fuzzy mirror, she strolled out into the night. Water hit her skin, soaking lace, flesh and leather alike. She strutted with the casual air of one for whom the ruins held no fears. Gripping either end of the whip behind her neck, she glanced at the chain-link fences, the ruined billboards and the skeletons of the high-rises with equal unconcern. The world may be a shambling ruin, but not her. Not the Sisterhood.

The Blood Sisters were on the rise.

She strode past strangers who gazed at her hungrily. Look, but do not touch. They knew the lessons of their new reality. They knew their place.

Nevertheless, she had a crowd following, at a safe distance, by the time she reached her destination. They were here to see the battle. So be it.

She opened the doors of The Hell-Cat Cavern and entered the smoky atmosphere. A cheer arose as she strutted to the centre of the huge room and climbed into the mud-pits. In the sunken arena, another of the Sisters waited, a chain clutched tautly between her hands. They smiled, cat-like, at each other as the crowd gathered around the edges of the pit.

The weapons would be lost in the mud soon enough. Why would the Sisters want to marr their greatest assets? This was not about the violence and the victor, it was about two sinuous bodies, writhing in the muck. It was about the show and the sexuality.

As she waited for the bell to ring, the woman’s lips blossomed into a smile. Forget about banks and forget about pharmacies. Forget about books and forget about knowledge. Forget about the internal combustion engine – for that matter, forget about the goddamned wheel!

In the newest of civilisations, the oldest of professions was where the true glory lay.

[Ravenwing]

chinaren wrote: The deadline is when I get about 9 entries* in, or when I feel it has been open long enough, whichever comes first. I usually give warning though, so don't worry.

And, Shhhh!


*The poll doesn't take any more than about that number.

LOL. I will keep that in mind.

[Lordy]

You mean that all the guesses are now free Chinaren, or just the first one?

[Chinaren]

Outside Girl

To the beautiful people,

You know I always loved you. Maybe you think you love me too but you don’t. You don’t even know me. You been locked away in your genetically perfect world, with your concrete walls and electric fences and robo-lasers that would cut us to shreds if we tried to get in. Love? You fucking assholes never even looked at me.

But I looked at you. When I was a kid I used to climb out through the bomb-holes, across the broken glass and the trash fires, to the wall. And I stared at the moving billboards and their images of you above the wall, and the rooftops of your houses, so clean and beautiful, and thought about how much I wanted to be there with you. Inside. Where the beautiful people are.

Then my Big Sister would come and beat me, dragging me back calling me crazy, saying I could have been raped or kidnapped, even cut up and eaten by the Meatmen. She was right, of course – being alone on the Outside is like a come-on to death. But I knew that on the Inside, you could walk alone all you wanted without anyone bothering you. Because everything there was beautiful.

Yeah, right. Just like you. You with your perfect, smiling white teeth, your smooth skin. I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I asked my Big Sister everything about you, who you were and why you were different. It’s all in the genes, she said. We could never be like that. She wanted me to give up on you, learn to live Outside with the Blood Sisters, in the rust and ruins and the old billboards that didn’t move. I should have listened to her.

But I couldn’t. Instead I promised myself I’d do what nobody ever did since you sealed the last gate and replaced your guards with robo-lasers – I’d break Inside.

You think you know this already, don’t you? Yeah, I know, you’ve seen the vid. But I don’t give a shit how many vids you see, you’ll never know what it’s like. Because Outside ain’t about broken fences and gutted buildings, it ain’t about knife-fights and the gang being your only family, it ain’t even about going to sleep cold and hungry. It’s a state of mind. It’s about feeling locked out.

Most of us just take it. But something told me that I didn’t deserve this. Something made me aim higher than my Sisters, or anybody else on the Outside, something made me watch the wall, and plan.

Stupid kid.

Yeah, yeah, I’m boring you. You don’t care about the nights I spent timing the lasers, or the days learning to climb, shoving my bruised fingers into cracks so small you could barely see them. You don’t care about the man I killed for his insulated wire-cutters, or the three months I slept with them tied to my body to keep the thieves away. You don’t care about how I suffered, suffered, to be with you.

Nah, you just care about the action, how when I was ready I finally took on the wall. Climbing like a cat, blah blah, bolt cutters in my teeth, robo-lasers, blah blah, you’ve heard it a hundred times, and I’m not going to tell you what’s real and what’s fake. You don’t care anyway.

You know how the robo-police locked me away the first foot I set Inside. And how they kept me for three days, until you came. You the beautiful people – big reporters with big smiles, genetically engineered to be strong, healthy, and good at your jobs.

Oh, you were good at your job, all right. You bastards got me to trust you, to tell you what I hadn’t given up to anybody, not even my Sisters – how I’d always wanted to be with you. I was always in love, but in prison you fnally got me to say it.

And you didn’t just get my story, you spread it all around. Then you all knew about me – the Outside girl who’d made it Inside. My story was a big hit, everybody so excited. And I thought it meant something.

What did it mean? It meant a vid deal – I signed the contract you put in front of me. It meant I could stay Inside, and live in a house – old servant’s quarters, back from when you still needed servants, but it was bigger and cleaner than anywhere I’d ever lived. So I should be happy, right? Outside girl finally made it. That’s how the vid ends.

That damn vid. Posters of it all over Outside Girl, it says, and there’s a picture underneath.

You’ve got the surroundings about right – the filth in the sky, the rusted fence and gutted buildings, the old billboard falling down. Yeah, that’s Outside. But standing right there in the middle of it, is not me.

Her name is Claire Raines. She's one of you - an actress genetically engineered for physical beauty, pampered and raised in luxury. And the poster says, "Claire Raines is Outside Girl."

Soon as I saw it I knew how fake you are. You read my story, and you still think anybody Outside has skin like that? Hell, I had more scars when I was two. And – excuse me – white lace panties? Where the fuck would I get white lace panties, even if I wanted them? And what kind of a half-assed weapon is a whip? If a gang of Dog Lords comes at you with knives and crowbars and broken bottles, you think a whip is going to keep them back? You kill me. You fucking kill me.

"Claire Raines is Outside Girl." The only difference between your "Outside Girl" and a lingerie model is her messed up hair. Yeah, right, that's what it's like to grow up Outside – you’ve got perfect skin and sexy clothes and a whip, but dang it messes with your 'do.

It all made sense after that. Why the reporters all wanted my story, but nobody took my picture. Why you look away whenever I laugh. Why nobody calls. You never loved me, not the real me, the one with busted teeth and facial scars and dirty clothes, the one with the Sister-mark drawn crude and ugly on her arm – not stenciled by a goddam machine across her perfect ass. You never cared about me, you just wanted to steal my story and star in it.

Well, I'm not going to play your stupid game anymore. I’m going back where I belong.

Oh, I know I won’t make it. It's harder now – twice as many robo-lasers, heat sensors, mines, more than anyone could get past. But, you won’t understand this, but getting peeled off the wall is better than living a lie.

Not that you care what happens to me, anyway. You’ll probably hush it up – might hurt vid sales, doesn’t fit with who Outside Girl is supposed to be. Or maybe you’ll make a sequel, all tragic-like, starring Claire or some other pinup doll.

But whatever you do, it won’t have anything to do with me. Because you’re all Inside people.

And I’m going Outside.

[Chinaren]

Lordy wrote: You mean that all the guesses are now free Chinaren, or just the first one?

Everyone can have one guess free. If you have another guess you have to pay.

[Chinaren]

Any more entries people? It's looking a bit sad this time! :(

[Chinaren]

Beer Run

A pained wail interrupted the playful giggles and endless chatter of the all-girls lingerie and naughty toy party.

“We’re out of beer,” Candice groaned, her lower lip wobbling precariously at the empty refrigerator racks. “Whatever shall we do?” A fat tear rolled down her pretty, flushed cheek.

Sympathy, and an immediate thirst, welled in Tiffany’s lace-cupped bosom. She stood and slinked across the linoleum to stand by Candice’s side, and wrapped comforting arms around the girl.

“Don’t cry sweety,” she cooed into her ear. “I’ll pop out to the corner shop and nab a few more.”

Five agonizing minutes later, after a futile search to recover her street clothes, the intrepid Tiffany concluded that the short run to the store would best be made in what she presently wore, and might even earn her a discount from that letch Bernard who run the register. She tucked a wad of cash from someone’s purse into her belt.

Pulling on a pair of spike-heeled leather boots, not sure whose they were and actually not caring at the moment, Tiffany grabbed a riding crop for protection and slipped out the door. She left the apartment complex and slithered quietly down the street. Why did Natasha have to live in such a run-down neighborhood?

A crumbling wall stood between Tiffany and her ultimate destination. The corner shop lay enticingly beyond the mortar and railing, and she hustled along the structure in search of some breach. A misting rain cloaked her bare skin, threatening to smear the henna tattoo reading Blood Sister painted across her hip.

The constricting boots began to chafe her toes, and likely mar her perfect pedicure. Why the infernal footwear turned out as two sizes too small was beyond her, and just more evidence of twisted fate. She decided to scale the wall. Grasping the lower railing, she placed one ridiculously booted foot on the upper ledge of the stone, and shivered as a cool breeze caressed her newly exposed privates.

Pulling and scrabbling against the damp wall, she hoisted herself up and over, flashing a drunken bum in the process. He muttered something about angels and heaven, and the smell of his whiskey-soaked breath hung in the humid air. She shuddered and dropped from her perch onto the pavement on the other side of the wall.

Giving the bum a gratuitous whack with her crop, she set out across the street towards the glass doors of the shop. Hobbling in the spiked heels and restraining boots, she slipped on the wet street and landed ungraciously on her ass. The pavement bit into her soft flesh, and the impact smarted. Embarrassment also imparted a lovely pink hue on her face, as she burst into tears and regained her feet. Then she noticed the true damage. Throwing back her head and screaming into the night, Tiffany released her terror.

“Oh my god,” she squealed. “I’ve broke a nail.”

The lament echoed back from the unforgiving street.

[Smee]

*grins* entertaining entry there :lol:

[LordoftheNight]

Quote: Any more entries people? It's looking a bit sad this time

Just how are we supposed to answer that?

[Chinaren]

Heavy Metal

“I know they suffocate you more than the passing of everyday human events
And isolation is the oxygen mask you're making children breath in to survive”

“Why are you following me? Leave me alone!” I yelled at him, before turning around and walking on. Behind me, I could still hear his footsteps, and increased my stride, wanting only to get home and safe. Risking another glance behind me, I saw that the dark coated man was gaining on me, his face in shadow as his wide-brimmed hat hid his features from view. All I could see was the gleam of his teeth. This was the third night in a row he had followed me, but this was the closest he had ever come. Now, in the pouring rain, and the black night, my mind transformed him from a perfectly normal gentleman into a stalking creature of the night. However… there did seem to be something abnormal about him. The manic smile, the glint in his eyes when he passed me.

It was bad enough that the new guy in the office couldn’t keep his eyes off me today, always trying to talk to me, gain my respect, whilst just wanting me between the covers; now it’s a psycho off the street.

Shaking my head to clear it of the horrible thoughts, I sped up to a half jog determined not to panic. That went out the window when I felt a hand close on my elbow. I shrieked, spinning round, but he lunged forwards, enveloping my mouth in his, and pulling me into a rough kissing embrace. I tried to struggle, but he clutched me tight to his chest, as he dragged me into the alleyway. He let me go there, using one hand to rip off my clothes whilst I screamed at the deserted night. He looked me in the eyes, the look on his face one of disappointment. “Come, dear,” he said, his voice like honey, “don’t deny your love for me.”

“And when we were good, you just close your eyes
So when we are bad, we'll scar your minds”

I looked at his face from across the courtroom. The perpetual malignant glint was there as always, but the smile was gone. It seemed the monster inside him could recognise sobriety. I watched as he tapped his lawyer on the arm, and they conferred for a few seconds, before the bstrd nodded, satisfied. What wouldn’t I give to have his head in front of me. However, I know that the law will take care of me, and sit tight, gripping to sides of my chair so that the fingernails dig into the smooth wood.

I watch as the judge recites the list of crimes that they pigeonhole him and me into – assault, sexual assault, sexual abuse, substance abuse – the list goes on. I’m still as I listen, and it is with only half a disinterested mind that I watch the jury file out into their annexe, to decide. I only start to worry two hours later when they haven’t returned yet. More time passes, and eventually the door swings open and they re-enter the room. A look from the foreman told me all I needed to know, and it was as if through water I heard the sentence announced: “Innocent.” As he cheered, and turned to shake his lawyer’s hand, I looked down at the floor, refusing to cry, but inside, another piece of me died.

“You'll never grow up to be a big rock star
Celebrated victim of your fame
Just cut our wrists like cheap coupons
And say that "death was on sale today”

I sat on a bench in the park, the cold wind whipping up around me. Its 8 o’clock and I’m waiting to meet the new guy from the office – John. He’s the only person who’ll have anything to do with me now. He’s taking me to see a film – Heavy Metal. I shiver, and draw my coat closer. He’s a creep, in some ways worse than the rapist. His presence is always there, his patronising smiles digging through my brain like a tumour, making want to scream – but its better to have someone, no matter how bad, then to be alone, isn’t it?

He’d shoved a flyer for the film into my hands during work today. It looks absolute rubbish, just another crappy action movie of big-assed and big-breasted women by just another poor director trying to make their way in life. It’ll never take off, unless a million John’s go to see it. It’s just his kind of film.

I see his car pulling up, and, with a resigned shake of my head, stand up and walk over. As I open the door and slide in, he reaches over for a kiss. I just sit there, and let him take what he wants, but beneath the surface, I’m crying.





“But I'm not a slave to god that doesn't exist
And I'm not a slave to world that doesn't give a shit”

I walk along the same sidewalk as always, but this time there’s something different about it. No. There’s something different about me – and will be from now on. I realise the similarities between me and ‘Blood Sister’ – both abused and discarded, left alone in the world, helped out by the one thing they thought they would never touch. Everything familiar, everything we knew, was now shut to us, not wanting to hear what we have to say. Except – I’m real. I’m alive. She can step out of the film any time she likes, step out of the costume, and take a shower to rid herself of the filth of ‘Blood Sister’. And while both of them will go on living, it’s me that has to live this life – it’s me that’s slowly dying inside.

“Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!
Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

[Chinaren]

If you wish to make an entry, then do it soon. I will close this around Monday.

[Araex]

I'm probably not going to enter the one that was started on storychat, might work it in to a storygame. But yeah, don't wait up.

[Chinaren]

Or is he bluffing?

Only a couple of days to go if you want to enter folks!

And remember, you can bet on the outcome in my...

Gambling Emporium!

[Araex]

As I said, I started it in storychat. So no, I can't be bluffing. Unless Lordy (or any good hacker) steals it and finishes it up, then it must be me. And I wouldn't bluff that I'm not going to enter it - they can see for themselves.

[Chinaren]

Okay, this SoaP only has one more day to go before I close the gates and open Judgement.

[LordoftheNight]

Actually Araex, anyone could do, as it's on the site history.

[Araex]

It is? :oops:

[Chinaren]

It is time for Judgment people! Get those votes in below and PM me with your guesses!

Remember, the first guess is free!

Also remember, you can still bet on the outcome in my Betting Emporium in the Marketplace! (Click on my sig link).

Happy SoaPing, and let's try and beat Smee in the guesses this tiem please!!

[LordoftheNight]

I cast my vote for Heavy Metal, mainly because it rocks.

Woo - vote for it.

[Araex]

Whoa, three way tie!

[Smee]

MWahahahahaa *adds "Win Soap Guessing" to top of Todo list* ;)

[Chinaren]

Smee wrote: MWahahahahaa *adds "Win Soap Guessing" to top of Todo list* ;)

:lol:

[ethereal_fauna]

Whoever that is with 16 points...better not be Smee. :cool:

[Chinaren]

ethereal_fauna wrote: Whoever that is with 16 points...better not be Smee. :cool:

Unfortunately my rules state that I cannot say 'yes it is'.

Ahem. :-o

[LordoftheNight]

So I'm guessing that is you with 13 Fauna?

Are you going to list the guesses this time Chinaren? Afterwards of course.

[Chinaren]

lordofthenight wrote: Are you going to list the guesses this time Chinaren? Afterwards of course.

Oh yes, I forgot last time. Sorry about that. Yes I will.

[Chinaren]

Thanks all!

This one is now closed. Results at the start of the thread.

[Araex]

Congrats Key!

[Shady Stoat]

Great story Key :D